


Next Summer

by ShatterTheNexus



Series: In Which [6]
Category: HINAPIA (Band), PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: F/F, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-01 02:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterTheNexus/pseuds/ShatterTheNexus
Summary: In which there’s a beginning and no end.(Summer Romance AU)
Relationships: Kang Kyungwon | Yuha/Kim Minkyung | Roa
Series: In Which [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1439971
Kudos: 13





	Next Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaned up from a Pristin 2kyung drabble for friends.  
I'll fix the sorting tags once Hinapia becomes official on here.

Catching the next train out of Seoul, Minkyeung leaves behind her finals and laptop to spend the summer at her aunt’s.

A text from her parents usually says, _Send us the time of departure and arrival. Tell us what platform and which exit. We’ll arrive half an hour early. Let us know if there are delay_s.

The message from her aunt is a refreshing contrast. _Catch a ride with anyone from town. Travel safe. See you at dinner, dear._

When she alights, she breathes in an entirely new atmosphere. The air is warm, sweet, and so clear. A bit grassy. She has an old fashioned trunk in one hand with threads springing out from the corners, and a big floppy sun hat. Taking in the rare unfiltered sun, she settles on a bench on the open platform. Her shoes thump softly along the creaky wooden planks. She stares down the tracks as the train pulls out from the station. There won’t be another for a week and she won’t be boarding it, not for another month. It makes her chest swell.

Turning to peek at the edge of town, Minkyeung leans back from a paper cup a hair’s breadth in front of her face.

“You can’t get through a summer’s day without chilled barley tea.” The stranger places the cup on the bench and walks into a tool shop, whistling with a skip in her step.

Minkyeung swirls the contents around. The beige liquid rises and falls against the brim like a soothing wave. Loosely toasted kernels dance in a whirlwind before settling on the bottom of the cup. She takes a sip and sighs. The bitterness wakes her up, reenergizes her from the long transit. Then the mellow sweetness of rock sugar coats her tongue as if welcoming her into slow country life.

~|~|~|~

With a handful of wildflowers from the side of the road, Minkyeung runs into the same tanned woman on a stroll through town. The stranger unravels a strip of torn cloth from her pocket, ties the flowers into a small bouquet, and nestles them into Minkyeung’s eco tote bag.

She offers a warm calloused hand. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”

Minkyeung finds herself sitting at a small wobbly patio table. The streets and walkways are one and the same around here. The woman exits the mom-and-pop cafe balancing iced coffee and a plate of cookies on a tray. A scruff of brown and white dashes around the corner and slams right into her leg. It recoils onto its haunches, too happy to be harmed.

The stranger takes a cookie, splits it in half, and plops down onto the scorching black pavement. The puppy clambers over her long legs with unsteady paws. It misses her palm a few times, rotates its entire body when its muzzle pushes the treat away in an attempt to bite. Eventually there’s nothing left but crumbs. Tired and content, it lays down where the table casts a slice of shade over the woman’s thigh. The harsh afternoon sun beats down on her broad shoulders. It doesn’t faze her.

“Yours?” Minkyeung asks.

“Nope. Probably a stray.” The woman brushes her fingers through the dog’s fur, untangling the clumps and scratching it behind the ear.

The elderly cafe owner hobbles out of the shop, smiles at her youthful customers, and sets down a bowl of water for the puppy.

Minkyeung leans forward, the weight of her arms tilting the table’s edge into her stomach. “What did you want to show me?”

The stranger simply gestures at anything and everything. Minkyeung’s eyes follow slowly. Her gaze lands on a mother carrying a sack of rice uphill while her son hugs a bag of vegetables to his chest.

“Sometimes it’s nice to just stop and look. Look at life around you whether it’s strolling by or zooming past. Drink it in. Breathe it out.”

So Minkyeung does.

~|~|~|~

The third time Minkyeung sees her, she remembers to ask for a name. _Gyeongwon_. It sounds clunky at first, fondly so. After testing it a few times, Minkyeung finds it soothing.

~|~|~|~

Minkyeung goes for a ride on her aunt’s old bike. It’s seen many fields, ditches, storms and heat waves alike. Its wheels are crusted from years on the dirt roads, two decades’ worth from pedaling to the only school half an hour’s ride away from the house. From back before the family could afford a pickup truck to expand their business to the farmer’s market.

Gyeongwon shoots out from between tall brown stalks into the road, now paved and sunbaked.

Minkyeung squeezes on the brake levers. The bike skids to a stop. “I’m so sorry! Gyeongwon, are you alright?”

Gyeongwon merely grins. “How refreshing. Screaming in the presence of a beautiful girl on a bike instead of a farmer on a tractor.”

Minkyeung doesn’t quite know how to respond. But she feels an oncoming blush that has nothing to do with the heat. Gyeongwon tilts her head, teeth still shining, like the silence doesn’t bother her. She brushes a hand through her messy hair. The light dances on her skin, highlights the contours of her muscles for a split second. Her fingers are spotted with soil. It’s richer and darker than the plots around them.

Minkyeung’s limbs feel heavy with a satisfying ache. Fatigue washes over her, the kind that pats her on the shoulder after a long productive day, telling her she deserves rest. She absorbs it all from Gyeongwon.

“Do you work on a farm?”

Gyeongwon nods. “My dad’s.” She simply stares, pleasantly content.

Minkyeung pretends not to notice. Tentatively, she tugs a handkerchief from her back pocket and dabs at the sweat on Gyeongwon’s forehead. She smiles at the pressure pushing back as Gyeongwon leans into her touch with gratitude.

“Teach me,” says Gyeongwon. She reaches for the cracked grips of the handlebar.

The warmth of a laborer’s touch is unmistakable. Firm, but gentle and safe. Controlled and courteous. Gyeongwon’s rough thumbs slide over Minkyeung’s delicate knuckles. It’s rhythmic, habitual, like she’s soothing a spooked stallion.

They spend the entire afternoon wobbling up and down the abandoned road until Gyeongwon finally gets going on her own. To the sound of Minkyeung’s whooping cheers, Gyeongwon crashes the bike into a tangle of weeds.

Minkyeung jogs over, crouches down and plucks a few stems from Gyeongwon’s hair. “We’ll work on braking next time.”

“Next time…” Gyeongwon echoes with a smile. “Hey, you must be hungry.”

Right on cue, Minkyeung’s stomach grumbles. She’d forgotten about stopping by the cafe in town for cookies and coffee. They chain the bike to a wooden post by the side of the road. Gyeongwon leads Minkyeung by the hand through a field of buckwheat. The low leaves tickle their shins and the white flowers spring back in their wake.

Minkyeung spots a humble home when they reach a new path in a clearing. Gyeongwon veers off to an indiscriminate leafy patch. It looks a little rough, but Minkyeung thinks it’s more endearing than the neat rows of crops behind them. They squat by the linear dirt mounds. Minkyeung watches as Gyeongwon digs through the soil with her bare hand. Curious, she reaches out for a pinch. It’s softer than Minkyeung expects, surprisingly crumbly and a bit dry. Gyeongwon digs deeper. Her movements are purposeful, fluid, strong. Then her eyes light up. Her free hand reaches for Minkyeung’s thin wrist, directing her to the sunken patch. Minkyeung brushes away the loose soil.

“Sweet potatoes?” laughs Minkyeung, tugging out a cluster of plump tubers.

They make quick work of harvesting, chatting and giggling the whole time. They fill an empty wicker basket and leave the rest for another day. Minkyeung’s slightly out of breath so it amazes her when Gyeongwon hikes the load onto one shoulder with ease. She doesn’t realize she’s staring until Gyeongwon calls her, already walking towards the house. They reach the porch when the front door swings open.

“Keep those in the shed until you wash ‘em. I don’t want you tracking dirt all over the house. _Again,”_ chides the woman with her hands on her hips.

_“Mom,”_ groans Gyeongwon. Still she shuffles off to the small building on the side, where Minkyeung glimpses shelves and sacks of produce kept cool in storage.

“And who do we have here? Come inside, dear, you must be famished.” The woman chuckles warmly. It’s a bit high, hearty nonetheless.

The next thing Minkyeung knows, she’s sitting at the dinner table overflowing with so many dishes, she can barely see the wooden surface. Gyeongwon’s mom pulls out an album of baby pictures. They’re faded, orange and glossy, but Gyeongwon’s bare bum is clear and round as the full moon. Gyeongwon’s dad cracks joke after embarrassing joke until Gyeongwon retaliates. It’s a full battle of wits over the last helping of sautéed greens. Gyeongwon’s mom leans over, asks for bets, and Minkyeung whispers back. Both are against Gyeongwon. Both win. Minkyeung nudges with her foot under the table, and Gyeongwon goes from sulking to grinning.

When the sky turns purple with a stretch of pink on the horizon, Gyeongwon takes her down to the river with their basket of scrubbed sweet potatoes and a backpack. They throw a pile of branches into a manmade pit along with shreds of last month’s newspaper as tinder. Minkyeung inhales sharply when the strike of a single match makes Gyeongwon’s features sharper in the light of dusk, makes her skin glow by the flame’s brightness. They settle on a sturdy log and pull the basket between them.

“So, city slicker,” Gyeongwon smirks. “Let’s talk.”

Gyeongwon holds a potato at the ready. Minkyeung rips squares of foil as she hypes up the city. Ads playing on gargantuan LED screens mounted on the sides of high rise glass buildings. When Christmas approaches, there are streamers aplenty, fake wreaths and garlands on streetlights, glittering baubles the size of her head on giant trees erected all over the parks downtown. She describes her university with lecture halls that seat a couple hundred. Coffee shops on every corner, just down the street from the hottest sushi spot, little bistros, and vegan pop-ups. The urbanites in yoga pants with their toy dogs in parkas and a stroller. The on-demand taxi services trackable by smartphone apps. The ability to have food delivered right to the door, eliminating any need to step outside. She talks about the night life, flashing club lights and disco balls at karaoke with her friends.

Gyeongwon wraps the last sweet potato and chucks it into the crackling fire. She rummages in the tall grass for a thick branch. A few pokes are enough to rearrange the roasting silver bundles. As if pulling them out of thin air, Gyeongwon pops open two bottles of chilled beer and offers one to Minkyeung.

“It’s no bar in Seoul, but…”

Minkyeung takes a swig and sighs dramatically. It makes Gyeongwon howl with laughter, so much she tips off the log. Navy paints the realm above and the gods dot it with stars. The moon shines so bright, it’s like someone carved out the sky to let mortals taste heaven’s light.

As Gyeongwon hums an old tune, Minkyeung thinks this is better than any bar back home.

When their bellies are full and their spirits high, Gyeongwon lays out a thick blanket on the grass. Their whispers are barely audible over the trickling flow of the river fifty paces away.

“Can’t you see it? Over there.” Gyeongwon points to the east.

Minkyeung hazards a guess. “A bunny.”

“That is clearly a body-building daikon.”

“Clearly,” Minkyeung giggles.

They bicker over all sorts of outlandish constellations. The one they agree on is a small cluster of stars right above them, a perfect outline of the town’s vagrant pup.

~|~|~|~

They meet every night by the river.

“See you tomorrow?” Minkyeung always asks.

“Tomorrow,” Gyeongwon always replies.

~|~|~|~

At the end of Minkyeung’s third week, Gyeongwon already has the fire pit going when she arrives. They spread out the blanket as usual. Gyeongwon has grapes to share this time. They’re crunchy and juicy, not too sweet. The sun hovers over the horizon like it feels guilty for bathing the two in darkness again and again. Before Minkyeung gets up to leave, a wave of courage rushes through her veins. She rolls over, brushes back Gyeongwon’s hair until her nails gently scrape the back of Gyeongwon’s neck, and leans down.

Minkyeung can taste the grapes on Gyeongwon’s lips. It’s intoxicating, apparently not just for her. Because Gyeongwon convinces her to stay a little longer without ever uttering a word.

They don’t return until dawn breaks. Around these parts, their families have nothing to worry about.

~|~|~|~

Cloudless days give way to breezy evenings. Minkyeung spends every night in Gyeongwon’s arms. Gyeongwon presses random kisses to Minkyeung’s forehead. She sings what she remembers from Minkyeung’s playlist and Minkyeung drifts to sleep on Gyeongwon’s chest.

In the morning, they claim a free bench on the platform and prop their feet up on Minkyeung’s tattered trunk, drinking chilled barley tea. The train pulls into the station. Passengers filter in and out exchanging pleasantries every which way.

They stand on either side of the threshold. The gap showing the steel tracks underneath feels like a chasm between them. Minkyeung caresses Gyeongwon’s cheek and kisses her slowly. And there’s the pressure of Gyeongwon’s strong but gentle hands on her hips. 

She’ll remember it.

“See you next summer.”

Gyeongwon nods, shoving her hands into her pockets with a grin. “Next summer.”


End file.
